


I'll Walk With You

by DanRoseWrites



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Orpheus and Eurydice (Hellenistic Religion & Lore) Fusion, Angry Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Cute Kirishima Eijirou, Cute Midoriya Izuku, Greek Mythology AU, Hadestown AU, M/M, Musical References, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Midoriya Izuku, Sassy Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, hadestown - Freeform, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanRoseWrites/pseuds/DanRoseWrites
Summary: The hum of a lyre, with lyrics to match, can tell many stories. Stories of love may be those most sought after, but they may also be the most tragic. This a tale of men, of Izuku and Shouto. But it is also a tale of Gods, of Bakugou and Kirishima. This is a story of hope and human error, how a man who can make you see how the world could be forgets his own song.





	1. Where the Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> If a first name is used, the character is human/demigod  
> If a last name is used, the character is a God/Goddess  
> Man is used a lot, but more so in the "human" sense, rather than the sex of men.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poor boy with a gift meets a young boy who has seen how cruel the world could be.

Izuku was a poor boy, but he had a gift to give. The blood of an ancient muse ran through him, but that did not protect him from the world, he still struggled alongside his fellow men. That connection did grant him his mother’s blessings and the support of a good friend of hers, though. The goddess Yaoyorozu had come to his aid many times, standing by him when he needed extra support. She guided him through the world, helping him prevail through the harsher days that had come so soon in his young life.

Even before the current time, he had faced many dangers, though he wasn’t nearly as lonesome then. The boy (only sixteen at the time) had joined Tenko upon the Argo, only after Yaoyorozu assured him he would be of help to the crew. Izuku wasn’t sure he was worthy to join a crew of heroes who had (mostly) already made names for themselves, but he had faith in Yaoyorozu, so he agreed to join. His mother’s blessings ended up helping him save most of his fellow Argonauts from the temptation of the Sirens’ song. They still lost someone, though. Perhaps Minoru was a scoundrel, even less of a hero than Tenko (who never faced any beasts directly), but he was still a human, and Izuku blamed the death on himself.

The moment he could, he left the Argo and went to settle in a place of his own. He took his lyre, a gift from his mother’s godly teacher, and spent years struggling to regain his trust in himself. Guilt ate at him no matter what Yaoyorozu said to dissuade his thoughts. For so long, he felt he could do no good in the world. He was not meant to be a hero, only a failure. It was only after the second six-month-long winter came that he realized there was no use wallowing any longer.

The world was kind no more. Back in the days of our tale, spring and fall had vanished without a trace, leaving only unforgiving winters and summers. The world was either frigid or scorching and every man had to be adaptable, as the change could be unpredictable and brisk. Few knew exactly why, but it was safe to assume the gods had some hand in it, as that did tend to be the case with all worldly tragedies. Those few that knew why, they welcomed the God Kirishima upon his ascent back to the Earth’s surface, for he brought the summer with him.

Izuku was among the knowledgeable, welcoming the cheery God alongside the patrons he served year round. However harsh the summer was, winter was five times as glacial and ten times as unpredictable, so summer was well-loved in comparison. Even more so in recent years, as the usual six months of winter seemed to stretch a couple days, with each passing year. Kirishima was late again this year, according to the weary droning of Izuku’s customers, who bundled up as well as they could, huddling close together.

Sitting behind the bar alone, the poor boy plucked at his lyre, humming a tune to himself. Music was Izuku’s primary source of entertainment year round, though it wouldn’t do him the same good it did in the summer while winter raged around them. When there was no need to hide away, life flourished around him, seemingly dancing to his music whenever he played. It was due to this magic, and the tune that wouldn’t leave him, that Izuku was sure he could bring back fall and, more importantly, spring. He just had to find the right words to flow with the melody that had suddenly materialized in his mind. So, even in the winter, when his music seemed to have no effect on the Earth, Izuku worked on a song that wouldn’t fully come to him yet. The song nearly held his full attention each winter, blinding him to anything else going on.

Even when the door, opened by a shivering hand, slammed open with a harsh gust of wind, Izuku didn’t look up, humming still. The door was closed (not without a struggle, it seemed), and a voice called out, “Anybody got a match around here?” Some of his usual patrons spared the new arrival a passing glance before quickly resuming their conversations. Izuku stood from his stool, setting his lyre aside and simply staring.

 

Shouto was a young boy, but he’d seen how the world was. Birthed by a goddess and raised by the King who had used her to obtain power, he leaned quickly how cruel the fates were. His siblings were mistakes in his father’s eyes, not granted a single gift despite their godly mother. Natsuo and Fuyumi were banished, but safe, his mother had once assured him, if only to get him to stop asking. She wouldn’t speak of Touya, and Shouto gave up asking after she accidentally burned him for asking at a bad time. She’d left them soon after, and King Enji kept Shouto around because he was the only heir left and an oracle assured the king that his youngest son would surely lead to a hero joining the Todoroki family.

When the young heir was fourteen, Touya returned with an army, threatening to burn the city down if he wasn’t given the crown immediately. Shouto took this as his opportunity to escape, leaving his father and the kingdom in the hands of his maddened brother. He hadn’t stayed anywhere for very long since then, telling himself it was easier that way, avoiding any ties to his fellow men. Life had taught him that men only work towards selfish or vengeful goals. He learned that men will do whatever they wish, without regard to anyone else, just to get what they desire. He resolved to never end up like that and never love someone like that, never staying anywhere long enough get comfortable or learn a single name.

Despite this, the wind was as relentless as the fates themselves, following him no matter how far he traveled. It was barely noticeable the first few years, but, as time went on, the wind tousled him around quite a bit. He didn’t mind it during most of the year, letting the wind guide him when it was much too strong to bother travelling against. Some days, the wind was so present, and possibly personable, he could almost consider it a friend, had that not been utterly ridiculous.

Of course, when spring and fall seemingly abandoned humanity, the wind lost any of the playfulness Shouto had once characterized it with. The wind was relentless each winter, tugging at his coat, scarf, and hat, freezing his lungs, and draining him of energy much more quickly than any normal winter would. Unsure whether this was an act of the gods or just his misfortune (He usually assumed both), he could only bundle up in the winter and pray for summer’s return. Yet, winter was becoming more intense, and with it, the wind became more cruel, weathering down his will bit by bit, waiting for the day he gave up and settled so the real show could begin.

For what had to be the fourth year in a row, summer was late again, this time by nearly two weeks. Shouto wasn’t sure he could take another day of walking. Every breath he took felt like inhaling shards of ice. At this point, he wouldn’t be shocked if he literally had been, considering the weather conditions. Ice storms were rare, as snow was the winter constant, but, with how harshly the wind blew, there was hardly any difference for Shouto. He did what he could to hide his skin from the wind, but it was impossible to see with a scarf over his eyes, so his upper face usually suffered the most of the torment. He took breaks when he could, sleeping in caves, with a single lit candle, and the occasional inn, when he could manage to convince the owner to let him stay for free, but he never stayed longer than a night or two.

The late winters were taking a toll on Shouto, this year especially. He saw no end in sight, no matter which gods he prayed to, and each day left his stomach emptier and his body wearier. Hasty as he was to take a break, he was well aware of his own hunger and desperation for some sort of warmth. He decided that he would stop at the next proper building he saw. He could only hope there would be something to eat. He might even settle for human interaction at this point. Anything to remind him that he was indeed alive.

The sun had set with no sign of life nearby, but Shouto refused to sit back and wait for the night to take him. If he stopped moving now, he’d surely perish in the snow within a couple hours. Numb to most of his body, the young boy could hardly feel the wind as it practically carried him for the next hour until some light shone up ahead. Dim, but undeniable, the sight gave Shouto the boost of adrenaline he needed to get to the building. He could hardly tell he was making contact with the door handle as his shaking hand turned it. The wind did the rest, slamming the door open and pushing him inside. He sighed shakily and awkwardly shoved the door shut, though it took a few tries, as the wind easily overpowered him, in his current state.

Now with the attention of most of the establishment, the young boy looked around and asked aloud, forcing his jaw to stop trembling for a moment, “Anybody got a match around here?” His eyes caught the gazes a few others as he looked around, but everyone either shook their head or returned to ignoring his existence. That is, until he caught a pair of green eyes, staring back at him and flicking up to meet his own eyes. He immediately forced himself to look away. He had to look away, because everything in him begged him to keep staring. Every instinct told him he was meant to go towards this other boy, to know him.

Thankfully, a woman with black hair and a gentle smile tapped his shoulder and handed him a match. Shouto thanked her and took a seat, his back towards the enticing stranger. He took his rather worn candle out of his pocket and carefully lit it. He just needed to use it for a minute or two, then he would blow it out and save what little was left for the last days of winter. He would be fine, so long as summer returned in a few days.

 

Izuku blinked away his awe as Yaoyorozu handed the stranger a match. His attention barely managed to follow the goddess’ form as she made her way to him, shaking her head. She stood by his side and spoke, composed as always, “Poor dear has been travelling an awfully long time.”

The musician nodded, “I’ll get him some food then, right?”

She smiled at him, the way she did when she knew something important was going to happen, “You wish to do a lot more than just offer him something to eat, Izuku, we both know this.”

The poor boy nodded, knowing there was no use hiding his sudden surge of inspiration from the goddess, and shrugged. He grabbed a piece of paper, rolling it up as he responded, “Can you really blame me? He’s stunning.”

The goddess watched as the boy twisted half of the paper tube and tore at the other half into strips, “Yes, the wind brought him here for a reason, but you mustn't come on too strong, Izuku.”

Izuku inspected his hastily-made paper flower, straightened his back, and walked over to the stranger, holding it out and taking his chance with four words.

 

The woman left Shouto alone with his candle and his thoughts, which he was only partially grateful for. He definitely preferred being alone to social interaction, but right now his mind would not stop wandering back to the boy with green eyes. Hadn’t he also had green hair, or was that just his traitorous mind making up details so that he would be curious enough to look back over at the other boy? He had most definitely had freckles, Shouto was confident about that, not that it mattered.

He had never felt so enticed by another person before in his life. He’d never felt enticed by anyone ever, in fact. Perhaps this boy was actually a god in disguise, testing him. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time in history a god had tested a man like that, but Shouto wasn’t sure what sort of test this situation could be. Either way, he didn’t intend on acknowledging the other again, unless he was approached. He sighed to himself and watched the flame of the candle dance around a bit until he noticed someone approaching out of the corner of his eye.

He looked up to meet the same green eyes. He took note of his hair this time, which was indeed green as he had suspected, and sized him up briefly. Shouto simply blinked as he registered the words the boy, who was extending a paper flower out to him with the confidence of a hero with the track record of Toshinori or Aizawa had spoken.

 

“Come home with me.”


	2. Livin' it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku and Shouto get to know each other, Kirishima returns, and another summer passes.

Never in Shouto’s life had he been so utterly lost on what he should do. In the past, decisions had been simple. When he was a child, he simply had to pay attention and obey to his parents. When his mother left, every decision was made for him, he just had to follow along or get punished. When Touya returned, Shouto made an deceivingly easy decision, to leave everything and never get attached again. Then things had been clear and simple to him, but now he was faced with a real conflict. 

 

All he had needed was a place to hide from the storm and something to fill his stomach, but now he was staring up at a boy, seemingly around his age, who had just asked him to come home with him. The stranger, whose hair reminded Shouto of summer’s lively fields, was clearly as serious as Shouto was baffled, expression set as he awaited a response. Had he not known any better, he would have assumed this odd character to be a deity of some sort, bold as the boy was. But Shouto knew the gods, could recognize their presences when he focused, and this was no god standing before him. That only made him more intrigued, unfortunately. His personal conviction would lead him to immediately turn this boy down, but his instincts would have him agreeing without any further questions. He needed to find the balance, but he was already too late to answer properly without addressing his hesitancy, so he panicked, chucked, and asked a question, “Who are you?”

 

Without any delay, the other smiled at him with kind confidence, as he let his arm fall and fiddled with his makeshift flower, “The man who’s going to marry you.”

 

At such a bold statement, Shouto laughed, a bit more openly this time, and tried to change the subject. “How about some food before we jump to discussing marriage? You’ve got food, right?”

 

One leg bouncing as he folded a petal of his flower, the boy with green eyes admitted, “Barely enough for anyone anymore. I’ve got a melody, though,” he added, as if that was obviously equivalent to food.

 

Shouto wasn’t quite sure what the other thought music had to do with food, but if the boy felt the need to mention his melody, it was likely another selling point for his proposal. He could have assumed that his creative potential would reel Shouto in. In a way, it did work, at least making him curious.“A singer, then? Is that what you are?”

 

Finally, the other broke eye contact, looking back towards the bar he had come from, where a lyre lay on the counter, “Yes, but I also play the lyre,” he chimed, looking back to Shouto and opening his mouth to continue, only to have the wanderer cut him off.

 

“A liar and a player, huh?” He had to admit right then, the blush on the musician’s cheeks was well worth the potential risk of insulting him, “I’ve known men like you. Didn’t particularly enjoy their company.”

 

As the musician stuttered out, “I’m not- I just mean musically..!” the woman from before approached again, resting a hand on the anxious boy’s shoulder. As Shouto observed her again, he came to the realization that the goddess Yaoyorozu stood before him, easing the other’s nerves.

 

She met Shouto’s eyes, insisting, “Trust me, he isn’t like anyone you’ve ever met.” Backhanded as the comment may have been towards the stranger, Shouto was curious about why a goddess so powerful was involved at all. Maybe he was her ward, or her child, a demigod like himself. Either way, she was supporting him in his attempted proposal, and that certainly helped the stranger’s case.

 

He nodded to the goddess, acknowledging her respectfully as she walked off, before asking the musician, “What makes you different, then?”

 

“I’m working on a song!” the freckled boy blurted out, then continued, explaining more calmly, “Well, not just a song. This song, when it’s done, it’s going to bring back spring.” Shouto blinked and looked to the Goddess, who nodded, reassuring him that the claim was serious.

 

“That sounds pretty ideal,” he shrugged, looking back into green eyes, “When would this be? Spring hasn’t been seen in years, the same with fall, and we’re lucky if summer sticks around for four months, at this point.”

 

“That’s why I’ve been working on my song almost non-stop this winter. It’ll fix the seasons, make this broken world whole again; be so beautiful that no god can stop the world from coming back into tune.” His expression relaxed as he explained, hope lighting up the space around him and leading Shouto closer to understanding just who this boy was and why he was so unavoidably endearing. “And once that happens, spring will come again, and I’ll marry you, surrounded by the blossoming flowers.” 

 

The trance slipped once again and Shouto nodded, bluntly speaking,  “I see. You’re crazy.” Despite the comment, the other didn’t seem dissuaded, so he pressed on, “Why should I become your husband?”

 

The boy smiled as brightly as the sun on the first day of summer’s return, as if he has been waiting for this question, “Because I make you feel alive.”

 

Maybe the comment was a final attempt to ensnare Shouto’s attention. Maybe the boy was saying what he thought would convince Shouto that he was different from others. It was surely possible, but not once in the entire conversation, bizarre as it was, did the other boy say anything that lacked earnest. It seemed impossible that the musician could be anything other than pleasant and honest. Shouto was sure he had been hooked the moment he walked in from the storm, but he couldn’t find himself too upset about it.

 

He nodded and stood, taking the paper flower from the shorter boy’s hands as he mused, “Alive is worth a lot, these days. What else have you got? If we’re going to get married, we’re going to need rings, at the very least.” Shouto stepped past the boy, looking back and asking, “Where are you going to get the wedding bands?”

 

 

Izuku found himself smiling, as his answer came easily, despite the tricky logistics the question posed, “The rivers, of course. There’s plenty of precious metal hidden within the currents.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, the stranger with odd hair asked, “And I’m to assume you’ll just dip your hand into the water and pull out enough to fashion two rings?” 

 

Shaking his head and chuckling, Izuku went on, “Of course not. I’ll sing my song and the rivers will lay the fragments at my feet.”

 

The wanderer began pacing as he spoke, “Right, of course, how could that have slipped my mind?” The musician fully recognized the sass in his monotonous tone, but it didn’t bother him. Of course this would sound a little ludacris to someone who didn’t know him. He simply listened, trying to keep pace and stay at the taller boy’s side, “Even then, if you plan to have guests, if we are to thank the gods for their support of our marriage, we’ll need food. I suppose your song will provide that too?”

 

“Well no, not directly,” Izuku responded with a shrug, trying to maintain eye contact with the evasive stranger as they paced together, “The trees will, my song will just convince them to bend their branches and grow their fruits for us.” 

 

Their pacing stopped and his green eyes met heterochromatic eyes once again as the taller mocked, “And what force of nature will provide us with the wedding bed? The birds?” All he did was reply with a cheerful smile and a nod. He had a lot of faith in his music, but he knew it was unfair for him to expect this perfect stranger to believe him immediately. The situation called for some disbelief and questioning, so Izuku didn’t let any snide behavior bother him.  “How are you so sure about this song of yours?”

 

Taking this as his best chance, he explained, “My music has always caused nature to flourish, especially in spring and summer. My mother was a muse, blessed and taught by a god.  Yamada, t he same god who gifted that lyre to me,” he added, nodding back towards it. “I’m nowhere near as skilled as she was, but she did pass some of her talents down to me. My songs can help buds bloom in early spring, so I’m sure the right one could bring spring back all together!”

 

A faint smile graced the wanderer’s lips, “If you’re so confident in this song of yours, sing it for me.”

 

He worried at his lip, suddenly much more uncertain of himself. No matter how many times he sang for others, he could never fully get over his anxieties. Now, with so much on the line, he could only vainly attempt to blurt out some excuse, “Well, it isn’t finished just yet, I’ve only got the main melody, and I’ve only ever sing that to myself, so I don’t-”

 

“You want me to marry you?”

 

He didn’t even need to think, “Yes.”

 

Another amused smile followed his simple reply, “Sing your melody, then. Show me this gift of yours.”

 

Not once had his melody caused any sign of life during the winter. Then again, he’d never sung it for another person, not even Yaoyorozu had heard him sing the melody. Some feeling inside of him, when the melody first came to mind, told him to wait for the right time to share it, and that time had to be now. Even if he were wrong, he’d likely be more upset about letting this other boy down than his instincts misleading him, so it was certainly worth a shot.

Izuku walked back to the bar and took up his lyre, quickly strumming it to make sure it was in tune. The others in the room quieted, most completely used to having Izuku sing for them, though more commonly in the summer.  He hummed his starting pitch to himself and pressed his fingers along the necessary frets. He took a breath, then strummed his first chord and steadily sang the melody on a simple, repeated “la”. As he sang, Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened with recognition and the other young boy observed him, relaxing with his fellow men. Izuku repeated the melody and chord progression a few times and, upon the final strum of his lyre, a pomegranate flower appeared in the hand that struck the final chord.

  
  


As everyone else stood staring at the flower that materialized in the hand of the muse’s son, Shouto and Yaoyorozu rushed towards him. Shouto took the flower carefully, inspecting it in awe, as he and the goddess asked the same question, “How?”

 

“I’m not,” the boy hesitated, “Not sure. I’ve never done that before..!”

 

Before Shouto could get another word in, the Goddess took the green eyed boy by his shoulders, asking insistently, “How do you know that melody?”

 

Shouto silently glanced between the flower and the boy as the musician gaped at the deity, “You know it?”

 

She nodded curtly, “It’s ancient and you shouldn’t know it. Where did you hear that?”

 

“It just came to me, like any other instinct. I just felt it.” The answer seemed to placate the goddess, as she released her hold on him and ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with his answer, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about that.

 

Shouto looked to the musician, twirling the flower between his fingers, “If you can make this out of nothing, and in the dead of winter, no less, I might be inclined to believe every claim you’ve made.”

 

Green eyes lit up, “Even the one about being the man who’ll marry you?”

 

He nodded with an easy smile, “Yes, even that one.” This musician would be the death of him, Shouto was certain of that much. He offered his hand out, “I’m Shouto.”

 

The boy took his hand and shook it, beaming, “Izuku.” He led Shouto to the bar and instructed him to sit, chatting more with him as he gathered some food for his guest.

  
  


Kirishima was giddy as his train neared the surface. The ride was boring as ever, with no company aboard, but that hardly bothered him these days. So long as he was returned to the Earth, to man and their joyous ways, he was relieved. This year was the latest he’d ever stayed in the underworld, but he finally forced his husband to call the train down for him. Bakugou was getting more and more stubborn, but there was always a way to break through his shell. In the past, a little sweet talking worked, but more recently, as the King began to keep him underground for longer and longer, they ended up arguing until Bakugou couldn’t stand to look at him any longer. He wasn’t sure how they had ended up like this, but there wasn’t much he could do, so he kept on living, bringing the summer to mankind when he could. He only hoped he wasn’t too late this year.

 

As he breached the surface, he watched the seasons as they changed. Storm clouds blew away, allowing the sun to beat down and melt all the snow and ice away in a matter of minutes. He watched as people peered outside of their houses and waved eagerly each time someone caught his eye. Everyone was as relieved to see Kirishima as he was to be back. He relaxed against the window for the remainder of the trip, enjoying the sight of color, of life, returning to the world once more. The end of the line came into sight and he immediately sprung to his feet, grabbed his bag, and raced to the door.

 

He cheered as he hopped off, glancing around for a moment before jogging over to his friend Yaoyorozu, hugging her and spinning around as she laughed, “Welcome back, Kirishima!”

He set her down and bounced on his toes, nodding, “It’s about time I made it back up! How have things been?”

 

“Not too different from last winter, but you were certainly cutting it close. How’s Bakugou?”

 

He shrugged, “He was working on something nearly all winter. Even when we saw each other, it was pretty strained. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.”

 

She shook her head with a sympathetic smile, “It’s not your fault, we all know how difficult he can be. It’ll get better, I’m certain of that.”

 

“Yeah, it will, it always does.” He glanced behind her and smiled at the men who were keeping their distance from the divine duo, “Godly issues be damned, I came up here to do one thing and one thing only! And you, my dear Yaoyorozu, know exactly what that is.”

 

“Of course, to bring summer back and save these men from their suffering.”

 

Kirishima blinked, laughing sheepishly, “Okay, good point, make it two things. I’m here to bless mankind and live it up with them, so come on!” He took her hand and led the way back into the bar she had come from.

  
  


Hearing the bar door open, Shouto didn’t bother to look. It wasn’t until he watched Izuku’s eyes focus on something and widen that he turned around. He observed the redhead that bounced from table to table, greeting people like he knew them all. It didn’t take more than a second for him to identify the being as the God Kirishima. Recognition caused him to look out the nearest window, where he noticed that all signs of winter were gone. He went to ask Izuku if the God always spent his summers here, only for Kirishima to stop him by calling out to Izuku, “Music man, play us a song!” as he led his followers outside. Of course, the boy immediately took up his lyre and Shouto’s hand, rushing outside as well. 

 

Once they were outside, Izuku started to play happily, giving the two deities and all others something to dance to. A few people had brought out their own instruments and joined in, elevating the music and truly starting the festivities. They may not have had much when summer first came around, but all of mankind knew they were in the clear for the next few months, so it was worth a celebration.

 

Shouto took his layers off, setting the clothes along the wall of the building and making his way over to Izuku, pomegranate flower still in hand. He tapped his shoulder and suggested, “Let the others play, you come dance with me.”

 

The strumming slowed as the musician divided his attention, clearly uncertain, “I always play to welcome Kirishima, though..!”

 

“That’s even more of a reason to join me. Try something new, Izuku. If I’m going to stay here and marry you, surely you can dance with me right now.” He tucked the flower behind the shorter boy’s ear, then held out his hand.

 

Izuku was hesitant, but he soon put his lyre down carefully and took Shouto’s hand. The lovers smiled to each other and danced underneath the sky.

  
  


From that day on, summer wasn’t so bad. Even on the hottest days, Izuku and Shouto spent their time together, enjoying every moment. They exchanged stories and learned all there was to know about each other, falling even more deeply into love. Some days, Izuku worked on his song, but there wasn’t much urgency in his writing. He played for Shouto often, proving himself further and amusing them both with his gift. Shouto appreciated having someone to share himself with, someone who understood him, cared for him. Izuku appreciated having someone who kept him grounded, someone who noticed him, cared for him. 

 

Kirishima’s summer was the same as all the rest, partying with the town, meeting people that were new, and ensuring that the Earth provided whatever they needed. He could just hope that whatever he produced would be enough for the coming winter. He loved humanity, couldn’t bear to know they were suffering, but there wasn’t much he could do when his husband came to take him down once again.

  
  


Time passed quickly, as it usually did in the summer, and soon enough it was nearing November. The town was gathered once again, dancing and enjoying the shared company. Shouto sat and observed Izuku as his love led the band with his lyre, smiling until he noticed the clouds rolling in just behind a dark train. Everything came to a stop as the train stilled. Kirishima sighed loudly as he walked up to the doors, complaining, “You’re early!”

 

A blonde man, dressed in all black and sporting a smirk, shrugged as he stepped out of the train car, “I missed you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally self indulgent. I adore Hadestown and I wanted to see an AU in this fandom, so I'm making it. PLEASE go listen to the source material (Written by Anaïs Mitchell) if you haven't.  
> Have any questions about this AU? Comment and I'll get back to you!


End file.
